Chapter 12 #2
He thought about this for another moment. Then, apparently satisfied, he returned to the fence, appeared to think better of it, and ran to bother Daisy and George instead.
Matilda watched him run off. “He will miss you terribly.”
“I know.” Tamsin adjusted her shawl and her emotions. “I will miss him too. But I am not far, should either of us need each other.” She said it simply, then blinked in surprise at herself. Her mind was evidently quite made up, even with her anxious thoughts.
That had to count for something. Didn’t it?
The garden of John Sterling, fourth son of the new Earl of Benwaith, was small but well-kept by his lady-wife.
It was the kind of garden that favored wildness over exactness, and there was no indication that Lady Juniper Sterling had strong opinions about roses.
Roman liked the garden well enough, but he truly appreciated the man and woman who tended to it.
As he walked outside with Sterling at his side, he took in a deep breath of the crisp autumn air.
Lyness stood beside him, his eyes searching out his betrothed with eagerness.
Lady Emily, Sterling’s sister, sat on a stone bench near the far wall with a book and rose when they approached with a warm and welcoming smile. She would soon be Roman’s sister-in-law. She and Lyness suited one another, which soothed many of Roman’s concerns for his brother’s future happiness.
Lady Juniper Sterling, John’s wife, had greeted Roman kindly and promised to bring refreshment in a moment, then apparently found somewhere else to be.
Given that Roman had come specifically to speak to the betrothed couple, he did not mind the relative privacy.
A smaller audience for his news was best.
“Lyness.” Emily’s smile for the younger Eastwood was warm and immediate, and entirely involuntary, the kind of smile a person produced before they remembered they were in company. Then she turned to Roman and curtsied. “Lord Hartwell. This is a pleasant surprise.”
“Lady Emily.” Roman inclined his head. “I hope we have not called at an inconvenient hour.”
“Not at all.” She gestured to the garden chairs arranged near the bench. “My future husband and soon-to-be brother are always welcome. Please, do be seated.”
Lyness, Roman noticed, positioned his chair closer to Emily than strict propriety required. She angled her body toward him, a sunflower searching out warmth.
Neither of them appeared to notice they had done it.
Roman glanced away for a moment, suddenly an intruder. Their easy intimacy was something he had not realized he envied until this moment, making him clumsy with his words. “I am engaged to be married. To Miss Thomasine Mayweather. I wished you both to hear it from me directly.”
The silence that followed lasted for several startled seconds. When he glanced back at their stunned expressions, he realized they had reached for each other’s hands to steady one another.
Lyness spoke first. “Thomasine Mayweather. You asked her to marry you?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
Another silence. Lyness’s expression was doing several things at once, none of which he was managing well. Lady Emily looked between the brothers with a furrowed brow, not releasing Lyness’s hand.
Roman waited.
“She is—” Lyness stopped. Started again. “You have known of her a matter of days.”
“That is true,” Roman admitted. “Yet I have been thorough.” He kept his tone even, certain.
He was quite certain. “I wish to marry her as soon as I can, with a common license. There truly is no reason for us to wait, given that both of our families are here. I am aware of the perceived haste, and I thought it best to ask whether it presents any difficulty for either of you, given your wedding is—”
“It does not.” Lady Emily’s forehead had smoothed and her smile returned. She spoke quietly and without hesitation, her expression warm and genuine. Somewhere underneath the warmth, something that might have been relief showed in her eyes.
“Truly, Lady Emily?” Roman folded his hands in his lap, putting weight to his words. “I would do nothing to offend or cause you distress. You are dear to my brother, so you are dear to us all.”
“Truly, Lord Hartwell, this presents no difficulty. None at all,” she said with a firm sort of cheerfulness. “Miss Mayweather is—well, I have met her only briefly, but she struck me as a woman of considerable sense. And kindness.” She paused. “I think she will suit you very well.”
Roman relaxed, unclasping his hands to rest them loosely on his thighs. “Thank you,” he said with a respectful nod.
Lyness was still staring with the expression of a man reassessing a great deal of information. “Are you—Roman. Are you happy?”
The question landed with more weight than it should have.
Roman considered it for precisely as long as was necessary to produce a measured answer.
“I am satisfied with the arrangement,” he said, without too uncomfortable a pause.
He kept his words precise. “She is everything I was looking for. Sensible. Capable. She understands York, and I believe she is well suited for the role of baroness.” He stopped from saying anything more effusive than that.
He was not, as a rule, effusive about much. “It is a good match.”
Lyness said nothing. Emily said nothing. They looked at each other in silence—but Roman had the distinct impression a conversation took place that he was not privy to.
“I hope you will both be present,” Roman said, returning to practicalities where he was more comfortable. “If that presents no difficulty.”
“Of course not,” Lyness said, at last. “You are my brother. I would not miss your wedding for anything.” His voice had shifted into something quieter.
When Roman examined him, his brother was watching Roman with an expression he recognized distantly as the one Lyness wore when he was being careful of his words, often to avoid his stutter when anxious.
Had Roman’s decision made Lyness anxious? Why?
“Thank you, Lyness.”
The younger man’s smile tightened. “Whatever you need from m-me, Roman. Always.”
They stayed another quarter hour to enjoy Lady Emily’s company.
She asked appropriate questions about the Mayweather family, and Roman answered, with Lyness contributing at intervals.
The conversation was pleasant and entirely normal by the end of the visit.
When Roman rose to leave he felt, though unable to account for it, that something had happened in that garden he had not prepared for.
Whether it was Lyness’s surprise or Lady Emily's relief, he was not certain.
He looked back once from the doorway. Lyness had moved to sit beside Emily on the bench, their shoulders touching, and she was saying something that made his brother smile. Not a polished smile. A true, wide smile.
Roman turned away to give them a few moments of privacy and went inside.
They were a good match. He had made one that was as good, if more practical. Miss Mayweather was everything he had been looking for in a baroness—and what more could he want?